


The C Word

by Slenderlock



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Casual Sex, Desk Sex, Fingering, Frottage, Grinding, Henry knows what's up, Jedediah is an opportunistic whore, M/M, Mismatched socks, Modern AU, Multiple Orgasms, No Refractory Period, Octavius is a sad gay slut, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Masturbation, Public Sex, Ruined Suits, Train Sex, subway sex, this is a hot mess, underground sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4044469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenderlock/pseuds/Slenderlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When CEO of the ACME corporation Octavius Gaius rides the underground to work one morning, he doesn't expect to end up grinding against a stranger, and he doesn't expect to <i>like it.</i> </p><p>He certainly doesn't expect to see the same stranger walk through his door for an interview not four hours later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The C Word

**Author's Note:**

> The authors dedicate this to each other - to [Octodaddy,](http://www.octodaddy.tumblr.com) who came whilst writing this more times than in-story Octavius did, and to (X) for ensuring everyone was a hot mess.
> 
> Not dedicated to [tinyotphell](http://tinyotphell.tumblr.com) .

Someday, Octavius mused, time travel was going to be invented.

When that day came, he was going to travel back to the day he’d walked past that alleyway and heard the pitiful cries of the kitten he now knew as Henry, and stop himself from rescuing her from the soggy cardboard box she’d called home.

Henry, the cat he now owned. The cat who had woken in the middle of the night, found her food bowl empty, and proceeded to knock Octavius's phone off of his bedside table, dislodging the charger. Which, of course, meant that his phone had run out of battery. Which in turn meant that his alarm hadn’t gone off.

The shower curtain nearly tore off its rings as he yanked it to the side, twisting the knob for the water onto its hottest setting. He scrubbed his body down with the loofah - to anyone who commented, it saved soap - and peered through the glass door of the shower to where his clock was hanging on the wall.

He had three minutes to get dry and dressed, get his stuff, and get out the door if he wanted to have enough time to walk and he didn’t have a chance in hell.

He resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t walking to work today and squeezed a dollop of shampoo between his fingers. He worked it through his hair, rinsed, and lathered in some conditioner. While he let the conditioner settle, he soaped up the loofah again and began to wash down his body thoroughly. If he was going to use the Underground to get to work, he needed to be clean as hell before he got ten feet from the place.

It would take him roughly fifteen minutes to reach the office from home via the Underground, he mused as he rinsed through his hair, so he’d have to be out the door in half an hour or so.

He tried to imagine Henry living on the streets. Fat, lazy Henry who could barely stand living off a full bowl of food for the twelve hours he spent at the office. She’d last, what, a week?

Octavius shut the water off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and headed out of the bathroom. Instantly, attracted by the sound of movement, Henry waddled over and weaved between his legs, pushing her head against his ankles. He crouched down and tickled her chin, unable to keep a small smile off his face. Henry purred loudly, nibbling at his fingers.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, patting her on the back and standing up again. “I’m still mad at you.”

Henry pushed against his ankle again, making a small _“murrrp”_ sound.

“I mean it.”

If she was this persistent, it could only mean one thing- she wanted breakfast. Fair enough; Octavius needed breakfast, too.

He filled her dish and stuck two slices of bread in the toaster, absently noting to himself that he’d need to buy bread the next time he went shopping. And god, he wasn’t looking forward to that. He’d probably run into someone he knew and have to make small talk, maybe even have to wave to a baby. And then he’d have to make idle chat with the cashier when he was finally done, and did they _ever_ shut up?

As he shoved the bread back into the breadbox, he wondered if he could just pay someone to go grocery shopping for him.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. And wasn’t there some sort of service that delivered groceries right to your door? Ah, but then he’d have to put them away. Maybe he could just pay someone to do that.

Come to think of it, he could probably pay someone to make breakfast for him every morning.

Towel hanging loosely off his hips, he headed back into his bedroom while his toast was cooking. He had to hear an interviewee today, so he needed one of his nicer suits. Maybe the navy blue one, with the blue striped tie. No, the striped tie was too much. Solid color.

He tucked through the suits in his closet, passing by the grey, white, black, darker grey, light blue, dark blue- which was different than navy, thank you very much- until finally coming across-

An empty hanger.

Lying on the floor of the closet was his navy suit, and lying on the navy suit was Henry’s dinner from last night, regurgitated in all its glory and probably staining through every single layer of fabric.

He wondered if that old cardboard box was still back there in the alley.

Well, then, fine. He’d just have to wear a nicer suit. Which was a pity, because his next best suit was really his _best suit,_ and he didn’t want to wear that to an interview. His best suit- the dark gray patterned one with the black tie- was too much; it would look like he was just trying to impress someone. But the navy, well. It was more modest, but still gave off the impression that whoever was wearing it was the most important person in the room.

Not to mention the fact that his gray suit had a tendency to wrinkle if he put it in his suitcase.

He set it on his bed and took out the light blue suit and, after toweling off, began to get dressed. He slipped on two different socks- one ribbed black, one plain black- and stepped into the suit trousers.

If he was traveling on the Underground today, he’d need a suit to match. He’d just duck into the bathrooms at the office and change into his best suit when he got there.

The toaster _ping_ ed, and he jogged out to the kitchen, slipping his hands through the suit sleeves.

He set the slices down parallel to one another, and pulled out the jam. He cut off and placed two thin slices of butter on the slices and, after pulling out another clean butter knife, spread a tablespoon of raspberry jam onto both of them, three clean strokes each. He cut the slices into equal quarters and plopped both butter knives into the sink. Maybe he could pay someone to do his dishes for him; it would save time and save him a shower from the messy dishwater that would inevitably spray onto his clothes.

Henry, face down in her food bowl, acknowledged him with a soft _mrrr_ as he sat down at his kitchen table.

“I don’t know why I bother feeding you,” he said, picking up a quarter of his toast. “That suit was worth more than all the food I’ve ever bought you.”

Henry ignored him.

Octavius left his penthouse, suitcase at his side, and headed to what was probably the dirtiest place in the city- the Underground. There was a reason it was kept Underground; it stank of piss and sweat, was full of people who either reeked of unwashed clothes and couldn’t find any better places to sleep than the back seats or grinned at him with tooth smiles and asked for spare change.

Disgusting, the lot of them.

He made his way through the crowded streets and down the stairs into the tunnels. He did not acknowledge anyone as he walked, the mantra of _head down don't catch their eye_ running through his head as if those words could shield him from the other passengers. The turnstyle stuck as he tried to go through it, and he had to take to flagging down a security guard to let him through, much to his his frustration. His train was already at the platform as he arrived, stuffed to the brim with travellers bumping and rubbing against each other. Octavius held back a sneer of disgust.

He climbed up into one of the emptier carriages - that is to say, one where the crowd of people was navigatable. There was only one spot left for him to stand- near the luggage rack stood a golden haired man, with a rugby player build, in a smart shirt and tie combination, jacket thrown jauntily over the handrail. The cuffs of the jacket happened to be at the same level as his rather delectable-

Octavius stopped himself from checking out the man. It had only been a year or two since the last time he had sex - he wasn’t that desperate. He took the spot, pointedly not looking at the other man, and took the hand rail. But before he could get a proper grip, the train jolted and started to pull out of the station, causing Octavius to stumble backwards into the man. He looked up and met a pair of sea-blue eyes, a crooked nose, and a gently smiling mouth. The man’s golden hair fell in waves around his eyes, his jaw was covered in coarse stubble, something Octavius was certain would create a delicious burn around his-

“Sorry.” Octavius murmured, stepping half a step forward with a red stain across his cheeks. Octavius would _never_ use that kind of language outside of his head, but the stranger was absolutely _delicious_ , and Octavius had just made a right cock up in front of him. Fantastic _._

But the man didn’t seem to mind - he _‘hmm’_ ed amusedly, and Octavius wasn’t entirely sure how a sound that casual could be that seductive, but by the gods, it was. He could feel the other man’s eyes look him up and down as Octavius turned his back on him, and the attention went straight to Octavius's cock, which gave an interested twitch.

Oh, this trip was going to be _hell._

 _“Welcome aboard. The next stop on this journey is Bow Church._ ”

For the first five minutes, Octavius could pretend that there wasn’t a hot stranger stood behind him, and that said hot stranger had not noticed him checking him out. The tube rattled on, and the only sound he could hear was the shuffling of newspapers, the _tap tap tap_ of a smartphone game, the tinny echo of heavy metal ringing out from the headphones of a young woman, the rustle of fabric as something slid across his arse-

Wait, _what?_

Octavius froze _._ Surely, he must’ve imagined that last part. There was no way, absolutely no _way_ -

It happened again, this time slowly, more exploratory. There was no mistaking it this time - the stranger behind him was groping his arse. Octavius suddenly found himself with a crisis on his hands - on the one hand, his first urge was to step the hell away and maybe punch the guy in the nose for daring to _grope him_ , but on the other hand…

There was a primal urge inside him that preened at the treatment. There was something rather defiling about the whole thing, a certain thrill that had his cock barely pressing up against his zip. Had it been someone he hadn’t found attractive, then that would’ve been a different matter and the guy would’ve had a bloody nose for his troubles. But _this_ stranger… Octavius wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to step away. And it had been so _long_ …

He took half a step backwards, pressing his arse more firmly into the other man’s palm. The stranger froze, clearly not having expected reciprocation. But, soon enough, he started moving again, his fingers pinching and squeezing the rounded flesh, even sneaking in a light slap when a particularly loud rattle rang along the train. Octavius could feel his groin warm up and become more than interested in the rough treatment, and he willed himself to not flush up and give himself away. The fingers ran down the cleft of his arse and rubbed against the sensitive flesh behind his scrotum, and Octavius had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from whimpering.

“ _We are now coming to a stop at Bow Church. The next stop is Poplar.”_

The tube stopped at its first station since Octavius got on, and even more people crowded onto the train. Pretending to try and let a laden traveller pass by more easily, Octavius turned so his growing problem faced the luggage rack. The man beside him hesitated for a moment, before he too used the excuse of a backpacker to step and press himself flush against Octavius's backside. One hand came to lightly rest on Octavius's hip, whilst the other came to hold the rail in front of him, effectively pinning Octavius to the rack. There was no mistaking what the hardness against his arse was.

Octavius slid his fingers against the stranger’s knuckles, before gripping his fingers tightly. Alright, perhaps he _was_ desperate.

The first grind was purely accidental - the train jerked from the platform, and the stranger stumbled forward a little, pressing his covered cock into the cleft of Octavius's arse. Octavius heard the stuttering breaths of the man, and he purposefully shifted a little so that the delicious heat ground against his arse again. The other man got the idea, and by the second stop he was grinding against Octavius like there was no tomorrow.

“ _We are now coming to a stop at Poplar. The next stop is Canary Wharf.”_

The other passengers seemed completely oblivious to the goings on in their carriage, but Octavius couldn’t help but flush at the thought of being caught in such a compromising position. His untouched cock was trapped between the rail and someone’s rucksack, creating a friction on the painful side of pleasureable as the stranger rutted against his hips. Octavius hoped to god that if he came it wouldn’t be on someone else’s luggage. It was just as he was getting to the point where he felt he _had_ to touch himself that the man behind him gave a grunt, a few off-beat thrusts, before he was shuddering against him, his weight pressing Octavius into the rail. Octavius continued to roll his hips against the other man, milking his orgasm until the stranger’s breathing went from post-orgasmic to over-sensitive. The hand that had previously been holding Octavius's hips in an iron grip started to wander- first to his waistband, then to his belt buckle, and then down lower until he was cupping Octavius's-

“ _We are now coming to a stop at Canary Wharf. The next stop is-”_

“Fuck.” Octavius muttered under his breath. This was his stop. The wandering hand paused, and Octavius took the sudden movement of passengers as his opportunity to rearrange himself so his erection was less obvious. It wouldn’t hold out for long, and Octavius knew he couldn’t make it to his office without doing _something_ to it, but it would have to do for a few minutes. Without looking at the stranger behind him, Octavius slipped out of his grip and leapt out the door onto the platform, pausing only briefly to pick up his briefcase and hold it in such a fashion that hid his crotch from public view.

He made it to the underground bathroom in record time. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have dared use these communal bathrooms, but the stench of stale piss and commercial cleaner seemed to beckon him like nothing else. The bathroom was luckily empty, but the only stall available was out of order. Octavius flushed furiously at the thought of having to do this out in the open, but his hand was already halfway down his trousers as he hurried towards the nearest urinal, which thankfully had metal dividers to hide his shame. He shakily unzipped his trousers and pulled his cock through the peephole of his boxers, the rock hard flesh swelling in the cold air.

He tugged desperately at the foreskin of his member, whimpering a little at the jolts of pleasure it sent through his body, flushing even harder when his sounds echoed around the empty bathroom. Much to his embarrassment, the sounds seemed to be turning him on even more. He spat into his hands and rubbed his cock more thoroughly, heat pooling in his belly like a volcano, readying itself to erupt. He tried to think of anything other than the defiling man on the tube - he thought of suited escort boys in luscious hotels, of _anything else -_ but his traitorous mind would let him think of nothing else but blonde hair and blue eyes and a hard cock rutting desperately against the back of his trousers.

By the gods, this man had him _desperate_. Desperate enough to jack off in a piss-stained urinal in the London Underground, out in the open where just about _anyone_ could walk in, barely hidden by two half-length metal dividers that amplified every _filthy_ sound that he made. Desperate enough that every graffitied word on the walls seemed to crawl over him like depraved fingers, dancing and jeering on the edge of his mind as he teetered towards completion. His grip on his cock tightened as he thought how desperately _hard_ he was for the _gross_ perverted man on the train, who was probably walking around London right now with spunk stained on his suit trousers, spunk Octavius himself had milked out of him-

Octavius came with a whine, his semen dripping onto the urinal rim. Its pearlescent gleam was the brightest thing in the dirty, dank bathroom. He took a few deep breaths, shaking arms braced on the wall, before he tucked himself away, tidied up, and left the stall without looking back.

o0O0o

Maybe it was the sheer frustration building even from the start of the morning- waking up late, taking the underground and grinding up against a stranger, not even making it back to the office before having to _jack himself off in a public toilet_ \- but this day was _really_ not going well.

The new intern jammed the printer no less than three times, the air conditioner broke down halfway through the day and it's supposed to hit seventy nine degrees today, and he still had to see this god damn interviewee- who was supposed to replace one of the best employees he'd ever had. Teddy had quit last week, because he'd gotten a better job offer in a nicer location, blah blah blah- he'd been polite as all hell about it, and Octavius still couldn't bear himself to be angry at him.

But anyway, the interviewee. Mr. Smith, whoever he was, was late. Five minutes late, now.

He rubbed his temples, trying to massage out the frustration simmering with every tick of the clock, and contemplated leaving now and ignoring the interviewee altogether. It wouldn't be too difficult- he could just feign a cold. Or a fever. It was hot enough in here to fake a fever, right?

Even with the windows open, there was no escape from the heat. If he ever found out who'd broken the air conditioning, he was going to be fired for manslaughter.

But yes, back to the fever. He could call the receptionist, take a _cab_ home, and spend the rest of the day-

Well. Probably locked in his room with the fan on and his hand down his boxers.

A knock on the door tore him from his fantasy and he sat up in his chair, trying to make it look like he hadn't just been blatantly fantasizing about jacking himself off alone. He slid his pad of paper, still cluttered with yesterday's notes, down in front of him and plucked a pen from his pencil jar.

"Come in," he called, pretending to be writing on the pad, and he heard the door swing open. He waited for the clack of approaching footsteps and the squeaking of the chair as it slid back a few inches with Smith's added weight.

They didn't come.

"I expected you five minutes ago," he said calmly, still writing nonsense words on the paper. So far it read _bananas are a good source of protein. Bananas are orange. Oranges are._

"Sorry," Smith said, and why the hell hadn't this guy sat down yet?

Octavius looked up, and standing in the doorway to his office was a pair of sea blue eyes held up by the same body that had rubbed up against him in the tube.

Smith took a few steps into the room and stopped, just behind the chair. For a moment, Octavius couldn't do anything but stare. Smith looked... well. He looked just like he had on the tube. And how he'd looked on the tube had been fucking gorgeous.

"I got held up," Smith said, still standing behind the chair. He propped himself up behind it, leaning forward. "Won't happen again, don't worry. I'll show up early."

"We'll see about that," Octavius managed, in the most casual voice he could muster. "Take a seat, please."

"I prefer to stand." Smith shrugged.

"I think you'd rather prefer to have a job," Octavius countered.

Smith quirked an eyebrow. "Bossy."

Octavius didn't take the bait. He linked his fingers together and looked at Smith, expectantly. Smith rolled his eyes, still propped up on the chair.

And maybe, Octavius thought, he'd been wrong. Maybe this wasn't the guy on the tube. After all, he hadn't really gotten a look at him. Well, maybe he had. But it had been short. And he'd been somewhat distracted by the feel of his cock and hands up against his arse. But this guy didn't really seem to remember that.

Smith crossed his legs and looked up at Octavius through his lashes. "You like bossing people around?"

This was _definitely_ the guy from the tube.

“Well, I _am_ the boss,” he said, stiffly. He picked up the pen again and began writing, adding to his notes. _Oranges are a good source of protein._

“You gonna order me around?” Smith hummed, stepping out from behind the chair and slowly making his way forward towards Octavius's desk.

“That is the definition of my job, yes.” _Oranges and bananas are a terrific source of protin. Protien. Protein._ “Let’s get back to you. Why do you want this job?”

“Well, you know.” Smith shrugged. “I just had this _hole_ in my life, you know? And I needed to _fill it.”_

Octavius swallowed thickly.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“Reaping the rewards of what I’m sure will be a _long_ and _hard_ journey.”

Smith was nearly at his desk now, and Octavius tried to subtly roll his chair back another few inches.

“What-” His foot slipped on the carpet and he slid down into the chair. He sat up again, red-faced. “What are you looking for, in terms of career development?”

“Oh, well.” Smith’s fingers trailed the edge of his desk, the fingertips sliding over the wood gently. “I’m really just trying to get something started. Maybe _stroke_ the flames-”

“I think you mean ‘stoke’ the-”

“See if anything happens to _come_ up.”

Smith’s thumb slid over the wood, as his fingers swirled in tiny patterns. Octavius stared, entranced.

“Sir?”

“What-” He sat up, unaware that he’d been slowly slouching forward. Smith was all but sitting on his desk, now.

“The questions,” Smith said, slowly. “This _is_ an interview, right?”

“Right,” Octavius stuttered. Questions, yes, he remembered. There was a list of them, somewhere. He strained to remember them. “What,” he began, as Smith pushed himself up and planted his arse - that bloody fucking _attractive_ arse - right down next to Octavius's pad of paper, “what are three positive things that you think will make me want to hire you, Mr. Smith?”

“Jedediah, please.” Smith- Jedediah- reached for a pen from the pencil cup. “Three positive things, hmm?”

He tapped the pen on the table.

“Well, I’m a very hard worker,” he began, and twirled the pen between his fingers. “If I start something, I _always_ finish it, no matter how hard it is or how long it takes. I don’t leave anything unfinished.”

Octavius resisted the urge to comment that he’d had to get himself off in a public toilet because Jedediah had left something _unfinished._

“I’m also considerate,” Jedediah continued, holding the bottom of the pen in one hand and trailing his fingers over the tip. “I care about all of my clients, and I’d do anything to please my boss.”

Jesus Christ, Octavius was going to die of a brain haemorrhage if this went on any longer.

“And I suppose my last reason for you to hire me would have to be that, frankly, I’m rather-” Jedediah’s hand crawled forward over the desk until it was an inch away from Octavius's tie- _“desperate.”_

Octavius's heart was running a marathon, his hands were trembling at his sides, he couldn’t tear his eyes off of Jedediah’s. His cock was damn near busting out of the zip of his trousers, and Jedediah’s hand seemed intent on reach it. He could barely breathe through the heat. There wasn’t even a breeze coming in through the open window; he was left to roast in the office his oven had become. His shirt collar felt damp against his neck; his tie was damn near strangling him. He was parched, and he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, trying to wet it.

He leaned up out of his chair and Jedediah, with a triumphant gleam in his eye, leaned down to meet him-

“Sir, I’m sorry, but the printer’s jammed again and we really need to file those reports on the- oh!”

Octavius thanked every version of God ever imagined that he had a desk in front of him, so that his PA Amelia couldn’t see the outline of his cock straining against his trousers.

“And,” Jedediah said, standing up off the desk and gesturing to the window, “you could fit a portable AC in just there; it wouldn’t fix the building but it would help keep your room cool- and hey, that’s what matters, right?”

“Am I… interrupting?” Amelia asked, looking between the two of them, no doubt taking in the flush on Octavius's face.

“Ah, Mr. Octavius here called me in to help out with that air conditioning problem o’ yours,” Jedediah said, beaming at her. “Look, he’s practically got a fever.”

“Amelia-” Octavius waved at her to stay by the doorway as she took a step forward. “Go get Lance to fix it; I showed him last time. And if that doesn’t work, _call me.”_

Amelia nodded, and Octavius almost thought he’d gotten away scott free when-

“Didn’t you have an interview scheduled?”

She looked again between the two of them. Octavius managed to shrug. The rim of his desk rubbed up against his aching cock and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the hard surface, biting his lip.

“Didn’t show,” he managed.

“Oh.” Amelia frowned. “That’s a pity, because the distributing department’s really struggling without Teddy, and I don’t know how much longer we’re going to be able to keep up production without-”

“Get _out!”_

“Right, sir, sorry!”

Amelia sped out the door without another word. It shut, the slam echoing for a moment in the room before they were left in silence again.

Jedediah looked from the door to Octavius, who looked back at him. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The blinds rattled against the window as a light breeze finally, _finally_ graced them with its presence. It blew between them, brushing the back of Octavius's neck and bringing up goosebumps as it cooled the sweat.

Jedediah’s eyes were bluer than ever; they looked like the ocean and Octavius wanted nothing more than to jump in and drown. At the thought of water, he tried to swallow dryly again. Jedediah’s eyes shot down to his mouth, and Octavius mimicked him, and-

And Jedediah slipped his tongue over his lips and-

And then Jedediah launched for the desk just as Octavius leapt up from his chair and they collided in the middle, desk rattling. Jedediah’s mouth was slicked with saliva and Octavius wasted no time in thrusting his tongue between his lips, yanking at his hair as Jedediah did the same.

Jedediah pulled him closer still, until the desk began to prod Octavius's stomach. Which wasn’t much of a problem - Octavius just climbed on top of it, his knees splaying across yesterday’s paperwork, knocking loose pens to the floor. He couldn’t even be bothered to remember what “yesterday’s paperwork” even entailed, too captured by the sensation of Jedediah’s teeth tugging at his bottom lip. He hissed, pulling away.

“Will you-”

“Let me-”

“Just come over-”

Were there cameras in his office?

What was he talking about, he was the _boss._ Of course there weren’t.

So there was no worry that anyone else would see Jedediah growling - actually _growling_ \- before turning the other man around and pushing him face first into the desk, pinning Octavius beneath him.

“I meant it,” he purred, stopping to leave a suckling kiss against Octavius's flushed earlobes before sliding down to his neck and beginning to suck at the pulse point of his neck.

“You- what?” Octavius attempted some kind of reply, but Jedediah’s teeth and lips were distracting and he was _sucking on his neck like some kind of leech_ and it was _disgusting_ but _amazing-_

Jedediah pulled off with a pop and looked down at his handiwork.

“When I said I finished everything I started.”

“I believe _I_ finished what you started,” Octavius huffed, rolling onto his back and sitting upright. Jedediah dived down on his neck again, this time nipping the skin with his teeth.

“What I started ain’t over.”

“You didn’t even _ask_ to start it.”

“You telling me you didn’t want it?” Jedediah paused for a moment, and lifted his head to look at Octavius with a curiously vulnerable look.

“...I just wish you’d _asked_ first.” Octavius mumbled, looking away. There was a brief, awkward pause, before Jedediah spoke again.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked…” Jedediah looked at Octavius through his eyelashes. “May I jack you off please, _sir?_ ”

That was all Octavius could handle. He grabbed the other man by his tie and pulled him into a bruising kiss. Jedediah let out a very undignified _“meep_ ” before returning the kiss with such ferocity that Octavius's head hit the desk with a dull _thwack_. Jedediah hitched one knee onto the desk edge and pressed it against Octavius's cock, shoving him into the unforgiving surface of the desk with his bulk as he licked and bit and _sucked_ at Octavius's mouth.

Octavius writhed against the other man, the friction between his clothed cock and Jed’s muscular thigh almost too much to bear. He began rhythmically thrusting against him, pressing up against the other man as he drifted back down the column of his neck. Jedediah’s fingers undid his tie and threw it aside, and then proceeded to unbutton his shirt. The man kissed his way across his face to his sensitive ears, and nibbled hard on the lobes, tugging a little in a way that made Octavius's breath catch in his throat. He then kissed and sucked at a spot just below his ear, and Octavius was nearly undone, his undulating hips becoming more and more erratic. He tried to slow himself down so he wouldn’t come too soon, but Jedediah was having none of it, ramming his knee even harder against Octavius's crotch and attacking the other ear with wild abandon. Octavius couldn’t help but rut against him - once, twice - before coming with a choked cry, shuddering and shaking.

He’d expected Jedediah to be done at that point, having finished his job, but Jedediah wasn’t finished yet. He pulled Octavius up from the desk, and gathered him into his arms and held him until the last shakes subsided, and then his hands started to move once more, roaming his oversensitive flesh and cupping his arse. His mouth was licking and nipping at Octavius's lips between pants as the man tried to get his bearings back.

“Smith, what are you-” Octavius tried to ask as Jedediah gave his arse a firm squeeze. Jedediah silenced him with a kiss.

“I’ve made you come twice already.” Jedediah murmured against his lips. “I think I could go for a third.”

“A _third_ -”

“Maybe a _fourth.”_

“You _couldn’t.”_

“Is that a challenge, Mr. Octavius?” Jedediah gave him a mischievous grin, before attacking his neck with renewed vigour. He bit and sucked his way down the column of newly bruised skin, before unbuttoning Octavius's shirt fully and opening it to reveal a canvas of untouched skin. He nibbled along the bony juts of his collar bones, choosing to suck particularly hard at the join by his shoulder, causing Octavius to jerk his oversensitive cock against the dark material of Jedediah’s trousers with a choked gasp. He dipped lower, and circled one of the tight, already half-pebbled nipples with his tongue, before clamping down and sucking hard. Octavius arched his back into the touch, his fingers scrambling against Jedediah’s back and head, looking for something to ground him. He fisted Jedediah’s hair in a vice-like grip as the man switched to give the same treatment on his other nipple, every breath coming out as a whine. By the time Jedediah had laved attention on his belly button, Octavius was already hard again.

“Shirt off. _Now.”_ Octavius said, tugging at the collar of the offending garment as Jedediah dropped to his knees in front of him.

“Yes, _sir_.” Jedediah murmured, not even taking the time to undo the buttons and just ripping the tie off and pulling the shirt over his head. Octavius admired the strong muscles of Jedediah’s back and shoulders, before tangling his fingers in Jedediah’s thick, blonde hair and pushing his face down towards his clothed erection. Jedediah slowly unzipped his trousers, shucked them down along with his boxers and nuzzled at his sticky cock with a single minded determinedness, mouthing at the prominent vein at its base and rolling his balls between the fingers of one hand.

“Do you have any lube?” Jedediah asked, bringing his face away from Octavius's crotch for a few moments. Octavius fumbled on his desk for a few minutes, his fingers still uncoordinated from his last orgasm. But after a few minutes, he managed to flip open the old tin cigarette case he kept on his desk to reveal several packets of the stuff, along with a few condoms. Jedediah eyed the box with amusement.

“You… have _lube packets-_ ”

“They only came in packs of ten and I needed one, shut up-”

 _“You brought lube packets to your job-_ and condoms, _condoms!_ \- and you hide them in a _cigarette case-”_

“I needed the lube to unstick a door knob, shut _up-_ ”

“And the condoms?”

“...Piss off.It’s not like it’s my fault you came in your pants and left me hanging-”

“Says the guy _who just came in his pants, and left me hanging_. An’ you’re the one that left, it was your stop, it weren’t my fault-”

_“You were the one humping me the entire time-”_

“Ah, shaddup and gimme one of those things.”

May the gods have mercy, Jedediah _tore it open with his teeth._ Octavius's mind was filled with images of what exactly Jedediah could do with his teeth as the other man squirted out the packet into his hand. The spearmint scent of the liquid barely permeated his lust fogged brain, but its cold texture hitting his cock did, and he nearly screamed at the sudden contrast to his hot, sweaty body. He screwed his eyes shut and let out a few ragged pants instead, and he could just _sense_ the shit eating grin Jedediah was wearing right now. He opened his eyes just a crack to see Jedediah working his dick and pulling his foreskin back, before the other man wrapped his lips around it and took him in in one fell swoop.

Octavius was lost. The heat of Jedediah’s mouth on his chilled cock burnt like a hot fire, and Octavius could not help but whimper as he gave a few thrusts into the welcoming heat. Jedediah hummed around his mouthful, sending delicious vibrations down the length, before he began to bob his head in time with Octavius's thrusts, taking him deeper and deeper each time. After a few minutes, Jedediah felt Octavius's hips still and took him in right to the hilt. He waited a few moments, and Octavius let out a desperate moan about the lack of movement. Jedediah gave him a heated look, before he swallowed around his cock, pulled it out, gave a hard suck and swallowed it back in again. He did this again and again, and it had only been ten minutes since his last orgasm, but he could feel another impending one curl and tighten in his balls. Jedediah was not going to make him come again with just this, he was _not_ that desperate _,_ he was _fucking not,_ fucking _shit,_ oh fuck, _fuck-_

He came again with a keening whine, his spunk splattering the back of Jedediah’s throat. Jedediah swallowed it down, Octavius's cock still in his mouth as the other man shuddered and shook. It was only Octavius's hands gripping the desk in a vice like grip that were keeping him upright, and even they looked shaky. Jedediah got up off his knees, and pressed a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to Octavius's slack lips, sticking his tongue inside with little resistance. Octavius could taste his salty seed on Jedediah’s lips, and he tried to respond but his orgasm-numbed lips were not cooperating today. Jedediah pulled away with a grin.

“Turn around.” he said, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw.

“I don’t think you’re going to get a fourth.” Octavius mumbled when he felt able to speak, but he did as he was asked, leaning his elbows on the desk and sticking his arse out. With a light slap on his back side, Jedediah walked away, and for one horrible moment Octavius thought he was going to leave him like this. But he soon returned, with a pillow he’d pilfered from one of Octavius's arm chairs. He encouraged the boneless man to cock one leg up over the edge of the desk, and slid the pillow so his still twitching member was cushioned against the hard desk.

“Oh, I think I can.” Jedediah replied, slapping Octavius's arse and causing his cock to rut against the pillow. The sensation was on the painful side of pleasure, and Octavius hissed. He felt Jedediah lean across him, and the scrape of metal indicated he’d opened the cigarette case of lube and taken another one out. Octavius heard the squelch of lube, smelt the scent of spearmint, before Jedediah smoothed the cool lubricant over his arse cheeks. The liquid soothed the burn of Jedediah’s earlier slaps, and Octavius pushed his arse into Jedediah’s hands almost instinctively.

“You like that?” Jedediah murmured, amusement coating his voice. Octavius could feel a fierce blush burning its way through his body, but in his post orgasmic state he really couldn’t care less. As if reading his thoughts, Jedediah laughed.

“You’re a hot mess, Mr. Octavius,” the man continued, swiping his thumb pads past Octavius's puckered hole. “A filthy _, desperate_ hot mess. Aren’t you?”

He pressed down on the tight ring of muscle, and Octavius was helpless to do anything but moan in response.

“That’s right. Imagine if your little PA walked in here right _now_.” Octavius heard him rip open another lube packet. “Imagine her seeing you, all hot and bothered and _desperate_.”

The idea of one of his staff walking in sent a bolt of pleasure straight through his cock, and it stirred in interest. It was entirely possible that she could walk in - maybe coming back with another problem with the printer- hell, Lance could’ve accidentally set the laminator on fire again; there might be a fire drill… Jedediah worked his finger into his arse, and Octavius forgot about everything else but the sensation of being penetrated, touched so intimately by someone whose name he hadn’t even known twenty minutes ago.

“Look at you, boy.” Jedediah smiled as Octavius all but impaled himself on his finger, arse wriggling helplessly. “Absolutely _begging_ for it. ‘I can’t come again’ my _ass._ ”

Octavius whimpered at the words, and writhed against the intrusive finger. His cock was now a little more than interested, and he had to lift his hips a little so it was no longer trapped beneath him.

“You get off on this, don’t cha?” Jedediah mused as he slicked up and inserted a second finger. “Being a _desperate_ little whore. I bet if you saw me on the Tube again, you’d grind up against me without a second thought, and you would _love it._ ”

He twisted his hand, and Octavius let out a moan as the tips of Jedediah’s fingers just barely brushed over his prostate. Jedediah did it again, and again, brushes turning into _scrapes,_ until Octavius was making mewling tiny noises as he rocked against Jedediah’s fingers.

“You were so _desperate_ for my cock on the train.” Jedediah scissored his fingers, making sure he brushed the other man’s prostate each time. “I knew how hard you were. An’ I knew exactly where you were going when you got off that train, and it _wasn’t_ your office.”

“How was it, Mr. Octavius, jackin’ off in that toilet stall?” Octavius heard the squelch of lube as Jedediah slicked up a third finger. He felt the pad circle around his hole, dip just inside before skirting off again, teasing him. Octavius whined. “You’re such a _filthy_ slut,” Jedediah hissed. “I betcha didn’t even make it to the stall. You jacked off right there and then, in the middle of the _filthy_ bathroom.” The finger circled around again before finally, _finally_ pressing inside against the others.

“Please…” Octavius panted, pushing himself back onto Jedediah’s fingers, his member hard and rubbing against the cushion.

“Please, what?” Jedediah asked, thrusting his fingers in and out of Octavius's pucker with force, stopping every few thrusts to tease his prostate. “What do you want? You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, _yes!”_

“You’ve only gotta ask for it, Mr. Octavius. Go on, _ask.”_

Octavius went even redder, if that was even possible, and buried his face in his arms. Jedediah gave him a few sharp thrusts with his fingers, and a hard slap to his arse with his free hand when no answer was forthcoming. His arse quivered at the slap, and he could feel it reddening with every second. He clenched his arse around Jedediah’s fingers.

“Oh, gods…”

“I’m _waiting_ , Mr. Octavius…”

“Pl-please fuck me, Mr. Smith.”

“Use my _name_.”

“...Jedediah. Please fuck me, Jededia- _oh, gods,_ please, fuck me _.”_

“Is that what you want?” Jedediah cooed, delivering another slap to his arse, on the other cheek this time. Octavius couldn’t keep back the grunt that passed through his teeth at the sensation of Jedediah’s palm colliding with his arse. He heard a faint chuckle, before Jedediah’s hand came down again, harder. “Is it?”

“Yes,” he panted, hands quivering. “Yes, please, _fuck,_ fuck me.”

“You want me to fill that tight little ass of yours?” Jedediah thrust his fingers in sharply at the word ‘ass,’ and Octavius let out a heavy breath in response. “Look that that, you’re so wet- you’re like a girl down here, ain’t ‘cha? You want me to fill this pretty little cunt of yours?”

“Fuck- please, _please-”_

“Ask me.”

“Wh-”

_“Ask me.”_

Octavius swallowed thickly. He could barely move his tongue to do it, he was so sensitive. _“Ffffff- fuck_ me,” he panted, biting his lip on the ‘f’ and clenching his eyes shut as Jedediah’s fingers stroked against his prostate again and again and _again-_  “Please, _please,_ fuck me, I can’t- I can’t- please, please, _please-_ ”

Jedediah very suddenly removed his fingers. There was a slight rustle as Jedediah opened a condom packet and retrieved yet more lube. Octavius heard the sound of a zip, then a rustle of foil and fabric, and then Jedediah was pressing into him, swearing and cursing under his breath. Octavius let out a breathy moan at the intrusion, and pushed himself back onto Jedediah’s cock.

“God Ockie, you’re so tight…” Jedediah hissed once he was fully sheathed. Octavius whimpered at the use of the nickname, and Jedediah picked up on it immediately.

“Ockie? You like being called that? Ockie, the little _slut_ , CEO of a big company, _begging_ for my cock.” He pulled out, and pushed his member back in again. “Little Ockie who’s going to come _so hard_ for me, right?”

Octavius moaned in agreement, his knuckles already white from where they were gripping the edge of the desk so hard. Jedediah started to rock against him, small hard thrusts at first, then longer, and deeper. He changed position a few times until he managed to hit Octavius's prostate again, causing stars to pop up in Octavius's vision. The desk creaked and rocked with the force of Jedediah’s thrusts, and Octavius was certain someone downstairs could probably hear the rhythmic thump of the desk, but that only added to the whole appeal, and he returned Jed thrust for thrust, rocking his arse in time to his beat.

“Oh god, Octavius…” Jedediah moaned after a particularly hard thrust. “Oh _fuck_ … Octavius, roll _over._ ”

Jedediah slid out of him, and Octavius complied, rolling onto his back, kicking the cushion out of the way and wrapping his legs around Jedediah. Jedediah pressed in again, and fucked him hard and fast. The heat of the room was almost unbearable, and their bodies were slick with sweat - Jedediah was literally dripping onto him with the effort he was putting in, and Octavius _revelled_ in it. He pressed short, biting kisses to Jedediah’s lips, the salty sweat clinging to them like dewdrops. Jedediah worked a hand between them and grabbed Octavius's cock, working and twisting at it, wrenching pleasure from it until finally, _finally-_

The world went white. Octavius was aware of a muffled scream and pressure on his lips, but the overpowering pulses of pleasure were blocking out every other feeling. There was a muffled “ _fuck, shit- oh!”_ from somewhere distant, and there was Jedediah shuddering between his legs, and Octavius had never felt more blissful. He felt as if he were floating above his desk, his mind far away from his body, somewhere past the Northern star. He was vaguely aware of his body being moved from the desk, and he was being settled in someone’s lap, but he was too out of it to care.

He didn’t know how long his high lasted, only that at some point he became aware that his shirt had been fully taken off, and a pair of strong arms were wrapped around him. His feet felt curiously free, and he had to open his eyes to realise his shoes had been kicked off, revealing the mismatched socks he had chosen that morning. He also noted that he was at least partially dressed - his boxers were pulled up, and his trousers at least partially zipped, if not buttoned. He flexed his toes, idly noting the delay between him thinking about flexing and actually flexing them.

“I see you’re awake.” Octavius had nearly forgotten he was sat in someone’s lap, and he looked up to see Jedediah smiling down on him, golden hair mussed and blue eyes tired but sparkling. He looked so relaxed, so _at home_ in the chair that Octavius wasn’t entirely sure how Jedediah had _never_ been in his office before.

 _He should stay,_ Octavius thought dreamily. _He suits the decor._

“How you doin’?” Jedediah asked, noting Octavius's dreamy expression with no small amount of humour.

“Hmm…” Octavius murmured sluggishly. “‘M good.”

“You sure? You were out for a while.”

“Mmm.” Octavius paused for a minute to try and grasp the words he needed to say. “What… happened?”

“You came so hard you knocked yourself out.” Jedediah told him with a smile. “It’s the first time I’ve ever done that to someone - I think I’ll take it as a compliment-”

“Do.” Octavius interrupted. “Do… take it. It… it was… good. _You’re_ good.”

“You’re still a bit out of it, Mr. Octavius. You alright? You want water, or-”

“Mmm… ‘M fine…” Something rang at the back of his mind like a warning light when Jedediah said his name, but it kept slipping out of his mind’s grasp like smoke. All he knew was that it was very, very comfortable here in Jedediah’s lap, and he wasn’t due anywhere anytime soon, and he really wanted to sleep, and Amelia could probably handle the printer and any calls, and he didn’t really need to do anything about Teddy’s old job for a while-

The job.

Oh, _shit_.

Octavius came back down to earth with a _crash_.

He scrambled out of Jedediah’s lap like a flash, and almost immediately stumbled on boneless legs. Two arms neatly caught him and held him steady - the worried blue eyes told him who it was immediately. It was the guy he’d rubbed off on the tube, the guy he jacked off in a public toilet for, the interviewee who’d fucked him across his own _desk,_ who’d made him come four times today _-_

“I’m fine.” he said, taking a few steps back, out of the reach of Jedediah. “I’m fine. I think, um-”

“Are you sure? You look a bit shaky. Maybe you should sit down-”

“No! I’m _fine_ , I’m-” Octavius caught sight of himself in the mounted mirror on the wall, and almost didn’t recognize the reflection. His hair was mussed into absolute disarray, his lips were nearly purple from the rough kissing, there were red raw patches where Jedediah’s scruff had burnt into his skin, and a line of hickeys in various colours dotted from his navel up over his nipples, across his collarbone, up his neck and towards his ears. His suit - his _best suit -_ was wrinkled and crumpled, with dried spunk spattered on the front and sides of his trousers. His shirt and tie were nowhere to be seen.

He looked well-fucked. And he _loved it._ He felt his cheeks burn with shame at the thought.

“I think you should, um… get dressed. Please.” He finally said, wincing at the hoarse sound of his normal voice. Jedediah gave him a once over, before shrugging and picking up his clothes from around the desk. Octavius ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to tame it somewhat, but it was no use - he’d have to have another shower when he got home to calm it down. He ran fingers over bruised and sore lips, all chapped and broken now the saliva had evaporated off, and wondered whether Amelia would ask any questions if he asked to borrow her chapstick.

She probably would.

“So, I’ll... hear from you?” Octavius turned to see Jedediah near the door, looking as unrumpled as he had when he walked in. There was not a hair out of place, nothing that screamed ‘I just made a man come four times in a day, three times on his desk’, unlike the filthy, half bitten _mess_ that stared back at him in the mirror. It was _impossible_.

“Yes, yes…” Octavius muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll… _We’ll_ let you know about the job as soon as possible.”

“Alright.” Jedediah turned, and opened the door. He was halfway through it before he double backed and poked his head around the door.

“Mr Octavius?”

“What is it?”

“Thank you for having me...” A smile ghosted across his lips. “... _sir._ ”

The door had barely shut before Octavius had collapsed into the nearest chair. He grabbed the phone from his desk and sluggishly dialled Amelia’s desk.

“Yes, sir?” she greeted.

“Cancel everything I’ve got today,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I’m taking a sick day.”

“A sick day?” Amelia sounded worried- Octavius hadn’t missed a single day to sickness before. “What’s wrong?”

The smell of sex and sweat radiated around the room, trapped in the humidity of the heat- the blinds remained still against the windowsill without a breeze to push them. Octavius pinched the bridge of his nose, feet sliding a few inches across the floor as he sank down into the chair.

“I’ve got a fever.”

o0O0o

The acceptance letter arrived on Jedediah’s doormat the next morning.

 


End file.
